Desperation
by Raikune
Summary: AkitoxHatori shounenai.[Ch. 4: All In The Mind]Akito starts hallucinating, feeling the beginnings of a terrifying new illness. Will Hatori be able to save him, or will he be forced to let him go..?
1. Hearing Things

This is sort of, but not really, a sequel to Drifting Away, my first AkitoxHatori fic. You don't need to read that fic to understand this one, just understand that here they are lovers. (But if you do read Drifting Away, please review? Thanks!)

Akito 1st person point of view. Oh and I know the Ch. 97 spoiler, but I don't care. My Akito is always a boy, which is how it should be. So no one start whining to me that's he's a girl, because here he ain't. Warnings: some shounen-ai, language.

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**DESPERATION**

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**Chapter One: Hearing Things**

It's midnight.

I'm not tired. I sit on my porch, yukata about my shoulders, and listen. To the silence.

You don't really believe that, do you?

There's no such thing as silence. Not anymore, not to me.

I'd started thinking, hours ago, about the many types of silences there were in the world. Uncomfortable silence, respectful silence, expectant silence…peaceful silence. My favourite kind is fearful silence. Like when my Juunishi kneel and quiver before me, waiting for words to drop from my lips onto their heads.

Now, the silence is loud. This night-silence, filled with wind-whispers, insects. After a while they magnify and pound against my skull. This screaming silence. I bite my lip. In the background of it all is this static hissing: and I know what it is.

It's me. It's the white noise of my mind, hissing at me through clenched teeth. I hear all my thoughts, my snapping neurons, my pounding blood, the hissing.

_tsssssssss_

It's really, really, getting on my nerves. I slam my hands against the side of my head. I have to _make it stop._

Hatori's behind me. I can feel his presence. My Dragon, my lover.

He sees me pressing my fingers into my hair and comes and crouches beside me.

"Akito?"

"What?" I snap. _Tssssssss _whines my head.

"You should be in bed, Akito. I put you to bed three hours ago."

His face is cold in the moonlight. There's a hint of what he was like before, before I sunk my claws into him. Before he shared my bed. "Well, I wasn't tired. I was hot and came out here for some cool air. And…"

"What?" He moves closer.

"It's _too loud." _I start tugging at my head. Little wisps of hair come out.

Ha. That alarms the doctor in him. He pulls my hands away. "What are you doing?"

"I'm trying to make it stop."

"Make what stop?" He's definitely paler now.

"This abominable fucking **hissing, **Hatori." Honestly, he's deaf. "My head is fucking hissing and buzzing and I'm trying to make it stop."

Worried tone. "It will go away eventually." He's feeling my thin cheeks with his hands, feeling my forehead. "You're cold. Let's go inside."

I let him help me up and half-carry me to my bed. The night chill has sapped my weak strength. But in my hot suffocating sickroom it's quieter. I wrap myself in sheets and close my eyes. I hear Hatori slip into bed beside me, he's worried of leaving me alone now.

He's mine, my Dragon. We're no longer familiar strangers. Something broke the thin ice of the doctor-patient relationship. He did, in fact. A year ago he broke my wrist, and I sent him away.

In the time we were apart, we realised we were closer then we had ever been. I couldn't stand to be without him.

Now he's back, and he's my lover, and for a few hours I can enjoy his pale hard body.

_tssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss_

**Damn this hissing.**

I curl up into a hard ball. Put my pillow over my head. Now the noise is slightly muffled. Good.

My thoughts wander…

Actually, no. My thoughts do _not _wander, they scuttle. Yes. Scuttle and scurry like a thousand blind ants inside my white skullcap. Tickling and tingling along my neural pathways. Urgh. I need to sleep, damn it.

The hissing's stopped.

I remove my pillow – I've been pressing it so long against my face it seems like a membranous sac. I'm also half-gasping…I've almost suffocated myself.

For a moment I feel the tiniest thrill.

Strange.

I sit up. Hatori's fallen asleep beside me – that twitchy, restless sleep of his, the sleep of the worried doctor. It's one of his more endearing traits.

As I stare at him, at his face, sheened with moonlight, something turns in my stomach. Suddenly I hate him. I can feel that invisible, ever-flowing connection between us: the Zodiac bond. I can feel my life, streaming from me to him. He's bloated with it, lying in my sheets like some vast swollen tick. He's living and breathing my life…and here I am, slowly slowly dying, waiting for death. I hate him.

My Juunishi are parasites.

I grip my pillow.

There's nothing I hate more then people in perfect health. Damn their wholesome clean lives and happy white smiles.

The pillow collapses beneath my mad fingers, I'm almost tearing it apart. Hatori's lying down there, a million miles away, obnoxiously sucking my breath and life from my body. His cells endlessly multiply and divide, his insides churn, his heart pumps. Every second _he's_ alive it's another second off _my_ life.

**The ungrateful shit…**

"Akito?"

I stop choking my poor pillow. Hatori's eyes are open, he's looking at me confusedly. I realise I'm holding my pillow above his head.

"What is it, Akito? Are you alright?"

Down comes my asphyxiated pillow, down _(onto his face) _into my lap. I try and wave away all thoughts I had of smothering this little seahorse into the sheets. "Um…I…"

He's staring at me, upright on his elbows. I rack my brains – there should be plenty of reasons I'm awake: fitful sleep, nightmares, gastric pain, muscle pain, bone pain, fever, shortness of breath…I'm the world's number one fucking invalid.

"I was just…thinking of getting some water."

Oh, pathetic.

But he buys it. He nods. He looks slightly twitchy, he must've seen oh so briefly the murderous glint in my eye. You don't forget that sort of look. That burning, concentrated glance.

"Why don't I get it for you? Just sit there." Yes, doctor.

He pads out. I sit there for a while, stupidly clutching my pillow.

I don't know why I thought for one brief second of smothering Hatori. I love him. Well, _need. _I need him like water and oxygen. I need him every day, so badly. I don't know what I'd do if he wasn't here. Someone to wipe my brow, carry me to bed, stay up with me on the bad nights when my lungs hurt and every breath is like fire…

My lover comes back in, pajama-ed and barefoot. He hands me a cold sweating glass and I take meek little sips, to show willing.

Hatori tugs my crumpled yukata back onto my shoulders. Then softly, tenderly he brushes his lips against my temple. I quiver.

"Aren't you going to go to sleep?"

I shake my head. "I'll sleep when I'm tired."

"All right." He lies back down, my Dragon knows better then to argue with me. Pretty soon his breathing is deep and regular.

How can anyone fall asleep like that, so easily slip in and out of death? I take hours to fall asleep, and when I wake I'm exhausted. Or I dream that I'm awake, and when I'm awake I think I'm dreaming. It's sort of like a living death. Days can pass by and I'll never know it.

I take larger sip of water. And another. And another. Pretty soon I just down the whole glass in one go. I think I have a fever.

My lips are hot and dry. I weasel one finger into the glass and scrape the last few drops out, licking them down like cream. I sit in my hot, nebulous darkness and suck my fingers.

I hear a low chuckle.

My dry fingers drop the glass, it lands with a soft _flumph _on the sheets. "Who's there?" I demand.

Nothing.

I'm delirious already. That must be it. I admit it, I've heard noises before when I'm in one of my frequent feverish frenzies. But none of them sounded so real…so _deliberate._

Well, I doubt some servant or Juunishi is hiding in my room. For one, if it was a Zodiac member I would sense their animal presence. Now, all I can feel is Hatori. And he's still sleeping.

There!

Ha! I most definitely heard _that!_ Another chuckle, not as low. And the voice, the tone…I recognise it. What? Do I really? No. No, no. I'm feverish. My own senses are playing tricks on me. I hate it when even myself is against me. But my own body rebels all the time – my stomach, my lungs, my heart, my brain. I'm all alone.

I really need another glass of water. Wake Hatori up?

Wait. What am I, scared? I am Akito Sohma, God of the Zodiac!

Said the fever-ridden teenager, clutching his dead pillow in a dark room.

I nudge Hatori.

Damn him, he's out like a light. I nudge him harder. Nothing.

Finally I decide to poke his ribs, he hates being poked there. His hazy bluegreen eyes open, he grunts. "Uhnh?"

"Hatori." I'm amazed at how calm I am. I do have some self-control, you know. "Hatori, I need some more water. But before you do that…will you check if there's anyone in this room? Or in the hallway?"

"What? Why?"

"Don't question me." This is more like it. He bows his head away from my hard gaze.

"Yes, Akito."

I watch as he dutifully checks the corners of the room, peers under the bed, explores every shadow. I'm feeling silly and stupid before he's even finished: there's no one here. Perhaps there never was. My cheeks are red from fever and embarrassment.

He comes back, sits next to me and puts his cool white palm on my forehead. "There's no one here. And you have a fever…I'll get you some more water and some medicine."

"The syrupy stuff?" I whine.

"Yes."

"No." Blech.

"Akito." He's giving me his I-Know-Best look, that doctor look. I hate that look.

"Fine," I reply, making my voice frosty. "Then bring me juice instead, or I'll never get rid of the taste."

He's gone again, I'm alone again. Me, moonlight, and shadows.

Why, why, why do I get the feeling I'm being watched?

I'm just being stupid.

"Heeheehee."

….

What. The fuck. Was that?

"_Who's there?" _I grind from my lips. I'm not anymore afraid more then I am confused and **annoyed.**

I straighten up. I can't see the walls, except where they're scrawled by moonlight. I'm floating in a black and white world. My head reels.

A giggle. Something is giggling!

"SHUT UP!" I hurl my pillow in the direction of the voice, somewhere to my left. It smacks weakly against the wall. My strength is just about gone…oh God, my head…

"Akito?"

Hatori's back. I jerk my head up, but he's watching me carefully. I stare back. There's a certain stillness about him.

He stands in front of me, holding a glass and a brown bottle with spoon in his hands. "Akito. What were you shouting at?"

"Nothing." I reach for the glass of juice.

He holds it back.

_He dares to…_

"Give me the juice, Hatori," I whisper. "Give me the juice and I'll forget your transgression."

Still he resists, but it's hard for him to disobey God. He's chewing his lip. "Akito. Tell me who you were shouting at."

I'm so, so thirsty. My head is like a fucking jackhammer and _I don't have time for this I don't even know what I was doing or what was giggling…_

"I thought I heard something, ok? But I didn't. Now, I'm parched, _so just give me the fucking juice, Hatori."_

He hears the desperation in my voice, I take the glass from him and sip it. Barely a few seconds later there's a spoon filled with petrol-thick brown liquid in front of my nose. It reeks horribly.

The doctor can guess my expression. "Just take it, Akito. It will help your flu."

I do. He always makes me, in the end. He sits on the bed beside me and waits while I control my gag reflex and chug down juice to get rid of that awful, awful taste. It brings tears to my eyes and scorches my throat. I feel like vomiting.

He puts an arm around my shoulder, and I lean into the crook of his neck.

My headache's blossomed into a full-grown monster. I can practically feel my temples throbbing in and out, these large, quiet booms that resonant through my scalp. My eyelids won't open all the way…my mouth is sticky…I'm falling…

I wake up again, this time huddled on Hatori's chest. His arms are around me, holding me to him. It's early morning. The din in my head has quieted.

There's a strange shifting behind me. Like something's passed by, just out of sight.

"Who's there?" I croak. I struggle up and look behind me.

Grey walls and silence.

A giggle. A whisper.

I bury my face in Hatori's pajama shirt and hope like hell I wake up soon. None of this can be real.

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A/N: Hahaha. I know some people might be thinking that because Akito's God, the Juunishi daren't lock him up. But after weeks of enduring Akito's soon-to-be-deteriorating mental state, handing him over to strangers seems like a pretty good idea, yes? And it won't change anything about the curse…well, leave me to worry about the petty details. You just need to review, pretty please!


	2. Seeing Double

A/N: Welcome to chapter two, where things are never as they seem…thank you to those who reviewed, you're kind people! Even the one where all the person said was 'akito.' Strange. But a review is a review.

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'On the wall there is a white hole, the mirror. It is a trap. I know I am going to let myself be caught in it. I have. The grey thing has just appeared in the mirror. I go over and look at it, I can no longer move away.'

-Jean-Paul Sartre, _La Nausée_

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_Fwoosh_

I slump back on my feet and press my cheek to the cold toilet seat. It's the only thing that's real in this world. Everything else is black.

I've spent the last five minutes puking up all the liquid Hari gave me last night. I think it was the cough syrup's fault, it was a horrible cherry flavour…oh god…

No puke. Just the dry heaves. I don't have any strength left, my skinny pathetic body flops back against the wall. The icy tiles burn into my marrow. I gasp and choke in the darkness, feeling acid rasp my throat.

Blinding light. It's Hari, he's awake now, he's turned the fucking light on. I screw my eyes shut.

"Akito? Are you all right?"

Oh Christ.

"Yes, Hari," I rasp, "I enjoy scrabbling for the bathroom at four in the morning and puking all the liquid in my stomach up. The medicine too. I _like_ it, Hari, I _really_ do."

He ignores my sarcasm and helps me up. "I'll get you some food."

"What?"

Is he serious? The last thing I feel like doing is eating.

"Some soup. It will help settle your stomach." He sits me down on the bed and puts a hand on my forehead. The top buttons of his pajama shirt are open, revealing inviting pale skin.

"You're warm," he states. Well, no shit.

"No, your hand is just cold," I say sourly. I don't know why I want to fight with him. Maybe it's because he's just standing there, strong, solid, full of beautiful health. I can feel it radiating from him. Damn Dragons, they're never sick. I feel cold and clammy, like I've left all my bodily warmth in the toilet as well.

Hari's gone now, gone to get me soup. The walls are a sickly grey, the sun's barely up.

There's a gleaming in my peripheral vision. I turn.

There's a mirror on the wall. There wasn't one there before. There's a mirror on the wall. It has nothing special to it, just a cold metal frame. Before I know it, I'm off the bed and standing in front of it.

I look at the mirror suspiciously. Dishevelled drowsy head. Pale anaemic complexion. Black eyes, wasted cheeks. Yes, that monster is me.

It flickers.

I grab the mirror's sides.

There. There, there, _there. _There HE is. This mysterious Voice.

I'm still looking at my reflection. Only, I don't think it's mine. This boy is wearing all white and he looks…different somehow. Oh, he looks exactly like me, all right, from the small mole on his throat to his thin elegant hands.

But it's not me.

He taps the glass. I jerk back and stare at my arm.

"Who are you?" he asks, in my voice. Only his is polite and not worn away by coughing. This annoys me.

"Who the hell are you?"

"I asked first," he replies, beaming.

"Are you me?"

"Are you _me?"_

Arrrgh. This is insane. I smack my hand against the glass. Ha. He draws away.

"Well if you really want to know, I'm Akito Sohma."

"You're not," I say.

"I am too."

"**I'm** Akito Sohma. The only Akito Sohma. And you – you're a mirage of some sort!" I try to pry the mirror off but I don't have the strength.

"Well," my reflection goes, all sly, "you can say I'm Aki-two." He watches me pant on the floor. "You're not feeling well, are you?"

"You should know – you're me."

"I am you but I'm not you." He's pressing his face against the glass. My face. "I'm Aki-two. I'm your opposite."

"What?" I close my eyes. I can definitely feel a migraine bearing down on me.

"Your opposite. Didn't you know? The universe must have both ends of certain spectrums. You – you're on the dark end. You're chronically ill, dying, near death…I'm the opposite. I'm in perfect health, I'm going to die at an old age and my personality is intact."

_What?_

I'm speechless. I haven't known this 'Aki-two' for five minutes and already I want to throttle him. 'My personality is intact.' Ha, ha, ha.

"If you're so perfect," I spit, "then why are you trapped in that mirror?"

"I'm not. I needed a medium to pass through."

"Pass through from what?"

He's giving me creepy, sly smile. "I'm not telling. You know."

And then he does something incredible.

He grabs the top of the mirror and swings through the glass like it was air. Aki-two lands lightly and bounces upward. I can see now that this idiot is wearing white trousers and a white turtleneck. That is _not _me. There's no way this boy can be me. I turn away from him, disgusted, and crawl onto my bed. Pain hums through my sinuses and forehead. I sink my head into the pillow. Maybe if I don't think about him he'll go away.

I can hear him walking about. Maybe this is a side-effect from my fever. Maybe…Maybe…

"Do you know what this room needs? Light. It's so dark and dull in here." _Fwap. _

**Light!** Light stinging and burning my eyes! That IDIOT!

"_Close those fucking curtains!" _I yell.

Aki-two looks at me, hurt. "I thought you needed some sunshine –"

"I don't need sunshine! I need to be alone with my headache! Get back in your mirror and **go away."**

"I can't." He looks sad. "You called me here. I can't go now."

"I did _no such thing." _My hands are clenching and unclenching all by themselves.

"You called me from your heart," he sighs, looking at me, troubled.

Oh god. I can't deal with this. I need Hatori. I need to have him pump me full of valium so I can forget my reflection's perfect flawless face.

"You can't live without me. We balance each other out." Then he giggles. "Because, _you're_ the unbalanced one."

"Shut up." Talking to him has made me exhausted. I want to sleep. But first I want to get rid of him. I hate his healthy look and peachy manner.

"Go away, _Aki-two_, before I have Hatori throw you out."

"You can try." He says this without malice, he's examining the sliding-door.

"Fine. HATORI!"

My Dragon comes, followed by a servant, who's holding a tray with a bowl of soup. I feel happy now that he's here; if he makes this brat go away I'll gladly eat anything he puts in front of me.

"Hatori," I sigh, "make this person go away." And I point at Aki-two.

He blinks at me. The servant looks confused. Hatori slowly follows the line of my finger to where Aki-two is standing, bright and alert. Then he slowly looks back. He seems to come to a decision.

"Put the tray on the bedside table," he tells the servant. "Then leave." The servant does so, not looking at my face. Aki-two's started to giggle quietly, the same giggling I heard last night. Something flutters up my spine.

Hatori comes and sits on the bed. He takes my chin and examines my face, like he's giving me a check-up. I bat his hand away.

"Hatori. I said, throw that boy _out."_ I point at Aki-two again.

He shakes his head. There's a strange, tight look on his face. "I can't do that."

"Why not?"

He hesitates. "Because…there's no one there, Akito."

I snap my head around. Aki-two smiles at me. He waves.

"Yes there is. Look: he's grinning at me."

"No." Hatori feels my forehead. I know I don't have a fever. He looks…I don't know, I can't describe his expression. His face keeps changing.

"He can't see me," Aki-two says, "only you can see me…Akito. I'm _your _opposite…not his."

"Shut up," I whisper.

I recognise the look on Hatori's face. He looks frightened. Frightened of me. And there's something else…is it pity?

I won't have anyone pity me.

I sit up. I ignore Hari's protests and walk over to where Aki-two is. The world's starting to blur at the edges, my migraine is near. Sounds seem louder, light seems too bright. I can barely understand what Hari is saying. Instead I clamp my hand down on Aki-two's white shoulder and squeeze. My eyes widen….

I can feel warm flesh under my nails.

So I squeeze harder.

"Look, Hari," I growl. "Look at him. I'm touching him. I'm squeezing his shoulder. Look at him, Hari. He looks exactly like me, but I know he's not me, Hari. Look how healthy he is. He says -"

I stop, because my Dragon's closing his eyes.

"_Look at me, Hatori."_

He won't. Beside me, Aki-two's wincing and squirming under my grip. "Stop it…stop it, Akito…you're hurting me…"

Hari's massaging his temples. I can see his bluegreen eyes darting left and right in his head like ping pong balls. Finally he does look at me, expressionless.

"I don't see anyone, Akito." His voice is soft.

My world teeters between them.

"I told you," Aki-two says from somewhere in the distance, "I told you he can't -"

I turn toward him. This is all his fault, _he's_ the reason Hatori's _looking_ at me like I just _died._

"I thought I told you to shut up!" I shove him away, he regains his balance and stares at me with no hate in his eyes. "You are really ill," he says, eyes tearing. "Let me help."

I shake my head. "No. No. Go away. This…this is **your fault. **Get back…get away…"

My vision's faded to a pinpoint, I can feel my migraine squeezing my head in its huge hands. They crush my skull. I sink to my knees. I know - I can feel - this is

I'm not crazy. I'm not. i'm. not.

Hari's hands are around me. I press my nose against his starched shirt – it's so clean and normal. I breathe his scent in.

"I'm not crazy, Hari."

"No."

"I…just…" Oh…what can I say? That I DON'T see him?

"Will you…still love me, Hari?"

"What?"

I let go of him, look into his face. Or where I think his face is. Everything's a pink pale blur.

"No matter how bad I get…promise me you'll still love me."

"Always," he says.

"Promise."

"I promise."

I've heard what I needed to hear. I let myself go and surrender to the pain.

As I pass out, my brain notices one thing: _there's a mirror on the wall…_

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A/N: Well. That's just the start of Akito's little breakdown. I thought 'what would be the best way to annoy him?' Answer: his opposite clone. Hahaha. Aki-two (or Akitu) will appear in all later chapters, even if only for an instant. Poor Aki-kun! XD Please review…


	3. White Devil, Little Angel

A/N: This chapter contains, among other things, Akito/Hatori fluff :3 Because I can put it in there. I'm the authoress, I can make them have a shower together if I want….omg calm breaths…

Yeah, I updated this FINALLY…

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_too much_

I'm paralyzed. This is what happens when my migraine reaches its zenith. My senses go into overload: everything, everything…my eyes see a vast, white, cracked desert which in reality is the ceiling above me, my ears hear every little sound: my respiration, the phlegm moving through my nasal passages, my saliva and blood sloshing through my skull…

It's too much. I grip the sheets and scream as scratchy threads explode against my fingers. Everything is _too much!_ I can't even move, I'm immobilised, filled to overflowing…

_blackness…_

I try to open my eyes. Nothing in the world can move them.

But I can feel myself again. I've swam out of the red throbbing darkness of my skull. My migraine has dulled to a conscious thud behind my eyes. .

"Are you awake, Akito?"

Wait.

That voice.

It's

It's _mine._

"I'm not awake," I whisper.

He's holding my hand. I can't see him but the hand clutching mine is small, fine-boned, soft, and – I know this – covered in pale skin. I don't need to open my eyes. If I do I'll see a horrible double vision.

"I know you don't want to see me, Akito."

Am I speaking? Or are my thoughts broadcasting out from my skull?

"Well, Hatori will be back to check on you in a few minutes."

I clamp my eyes tighter. He gets the message. He lets go and I can hear him moving away. I can hear my feet moving away from the bed. At the same time, they're also beneath these sheets.

Fuck. I don't want to open my eyes. Already I can see the mirror; that mirror, gleaming hatefully in the darkness.

I hate this. I can feel him watching me with my own black eyes. I can almost _see _him. Aki-two…no, _Akitu. _Ha.

I open my cracked lips. "Leave."

"Why?"

"Because I hate you."

"I know. But I won't go."

I lose it. _"You fucking little asshole –"_

"Go ahead and yell," he says, in a cold, cool voice. That doesn't sound like him. A minute ago he was all peaches and cream…I open my eyes, I have to see him.

Akitu is standing at the foot of my bed. He's smiling, still healthy, his eyes sparkle with life…but something's different.

He's shady, watchful. As I stare he hops onto the end of my bed and crouches like some white crow and studies me. His eyes seem very dark.

My fingers grip the covers tight.

"I lied about you calling me," he says suddenly. "I wanted to come. I sensed you were near…the brink."

"The brink? Of what?"

"The edge," Akitu goes on, ignoring me. "You're so very close. Teetering. I've been waiting…for such a long time…every time you fell severely ill I held my breath…but no."

"Stop it," I tell him. He's beginning to scare me, just a little. His body is so white and pure-looking but I look into those eyes and it's like looking into a pit…

"Every time," he repeats. "So many chances. But you didn't die and I couldn't…step in."

"What the hell are you talking about?" I'm clammy and cold. I want Hari.

"I told you. We are the opposite ends of a spectrum. You're sickly, dying, your mind's fucked up and you're malevolent. You're not a nice person. You've done so many horrible things…to so many people." He clucks his tongue.

"I did what I needed to do." How dare this bastard try and condone me.

"Whereas I," he goes on, "am the nicest of people…I'm healthy…my mind is clean and functioning normally…" Akitu's face twists, his china-doll features swarming.

"So why were _you_ put here instead of me? Why?"

"I –"

"I couldn't believe it, I had to see for myself – this boy. This boy," (pointing at me) "- who abused his little cousin and locked him in a dark room, who mashed a vase into his current lover's face, who, when he found out his Ram had found love struck down his little girlfriend –"

"Shut up." I raise myself up. My fury is back; I soak in it and let it wet my mouth. "My decisions – I carried them out because I needed to! I needed to teach them! They are _mine._ They belong to _me."_

"So you take away their love?" he mocks.

I lash out, striking him across the face. "You impudent fool – they need love only me, I am here to be loved. I am God. I remind them of that fact…by removing _others_ who try and take that love away."

"Evil," Akitu replies quietly. "You're evil, you know that?"

"See if I care."

We stare into each other's identical eyes for several white heartbeats.

Akitu's mouth curls into a wide, moist smile. "Do you want to know what I see, when I look at you…Akito?"

"..."

"I don't see a God." He hops lightly off the bed and comes to the bedside, curling one white hand around my cheek. I jerk my head away.

"I see…a raving, demented, sickly little boy, who has illusions of power, who thinks he is strong when he is actually…very, very weak."

Without warning, he punches me in the side. Wracking forks of pain spike through me and I gasp. He's strong…I double up and curse.

"Weak. Frightened. Spoiled and selfish. Clingy. _Alone."_

"N-no." I grab the edge of the bed, white dots leaking into my eyes. "I have…my Juunishi…"

"They hate you."

"I have them. They're mine."

"They hate you."

"We all have something." Cold sweat trickles down my back. "We have…the bond…the blood bond we share…"

"The bond they're _chained_ by." He kneels and lays his head on the bed so he's looking at my face. I snap at him and he grins. "Ah, that's what you cling to, Akito…the Zodiac bond. Without it, you wouldn't exist."

"_Fuck you –" _

"Poor, sick little monster…" he strokes my cheek and I can't stop him, I can't…"You want to feel _needed_. You want to have _purpose. _You don't want…to be alone."

"Go away." I don't have the strength to fight him off. I'm sure he's ruptured my kidney.

"No. I told you, I came here because I wanted to. I want to watch you." He brushes some hair out of my eyes. "You're precious to me, Akito. You're my key. With your death, one end of the spectrum vanishes and the other comes in. I will be the next God and I will be a _loving _God, Akito. I can undo everything you've done…

"I want to watch you die."

Those words terrify me. It can't be true, it can't. I'm not dying…not _now_…wait.

"You said," I hiss, "that we balanced each other out. We can't live without each other –" Akitu's already waving this away.

"Another lie, Akito. Only one of us can exist at a time – haven't you heard that myth, that everyone has a twin in the world, and when you meet, one of you will die? Well, guess who's dying, right now?"

I sink further into the mattress.

"So precious." Akitu gives me a little kiss on the forehead and my stomach heaves. "I came here to watch you die, Akito. Because your body's finally giving up. That's the curse – you die young so that others may live. Your mind, body, and soul are rotting.

"And when you die…you die alone. Death is such a solitary creature."

"Hari…" I whisper. "Hari will be with me."

"I'm not so sure about that." Akitu gives a beautiful, soulless smile.

"I lied again about wanting to help you. I would kill you now if I could. But look at me…" he raises his white hands to the ceiling, as if imploring Heaven, "…I'm merely an essence, a phantom, a projection…

"Besides," he suddenly chirps, the dark mask falling away and the smiling, healthy boy surfacing once more, "I'm not the evil one, Akito, you are! I'm the good one. When my time comes, I shall be a loving God, and all the Juunishi will love me from the bottom of their hearts. They will want no other."

"That will _never_ happen," I burst out, "Never! I will live, I will live, I'll never give them to you – you – _you devil in an angel's mask!"_

Someone coughs.

I jerk my head around. Hatori's standing in the doorway, looking clean and doctorly and unruffled except for his face. But the moment he sees me looking at him his face closes and he strides briskly to the bed.

"I'm glad you're awake. Now, please, _eat something. _The soup from yesterday's gone tepid, but I've ordered you another bowl. You haven't eaten anything for twenty-four hours, Akito, you have to eat something."

He's talking rapidly, clipped, like normal, totally ignoring the fact that he's seen me talking to (in his view) myself. As if nothing happened yesterday. As if I wasn't crazy.

I try to sit up, but gasp from the pain in my side. Immediately my Dragon lifts up my pajama top –a spectacular bruise is flowering bitter black. Hatori whitens.

"Akito! When did you – how – did -"

I can see what he's going to say before he says it.

"I did not do this to myself, Hatori. I…fell down."

"Fell down?"

"Yes. Earlier. I was on my way to the bathroom. Fell down. It's not important."

"You should've called me."

"Never mind." I coax his head forward and kiss it. "You're here now, Hatori. And…" I look over his shoulder, Akitu is watching me from the corner, "…you love me, don't you, Hatori. You'll stay with me forever. You promised."

"Of course I love you." He kisses me. I shoot Akitu a triumphant smirk. Conniving little bastard.

"Now let me put a bandage on that –"

"Later." I draw his head close again and start to nibble on his earlobe.

"Akito, I don't think you're in any shape to – _unhh…" _He shudders as I taste the cup of his ear, the pale flesh blushing pink. I know my Dragon intimately and I know the spots that make him melt.

I push him back onto the bed and climb on top, letting my hot breaths lance his skin. He in turn is sliding his hands under my shirt, careful and gentle, mindful of my bruise. We won't make love, just touch each other, reassure each other we're still there, still alive. Such a bonding like this is more intimate then any sexual act.

I look into his eyes and see, behind their clear glass, the spirit of the Dragon possessing this man's body. A sly and ancient thing, reborn again and again, woven into my lover's soul until he dies. The Dragon senses me and knows that I am God. My Dragon, besides my Rat, is the most loyal.

"I feel you," Hari murmurs below me, eyes closed as if in ecstasy, "I feel like I've known you…forever…"

"More then forever," I tell him, kissing his neck. "Always."

His thumb is massaging my hipbone and I wriggle slightly, shivering. "You're cold," he says, "Clammy."

"Then make me warm."

Hatori kicks his shoes off and pulls the covers up over us. We stay like that for a while, warm and content, looking into each other's eyes, each other's faces.

"Akito," Hatori says with soft hesitance, "Akito…who were you talking to…earlier?"

I shake my head. If I tell him he'll get all stiff and worried and distant and I don't want that to happen.

"It's only my concern."

"Who?"

I relent. "My terrible twin," I say with a bitter laugh, "that pestilent little shit who appeared to me yesterday."

"I see."

My eyebrow raises. "Aren't you going to tell me he's not there? That he's a figment on my imagination? You're probably right, but that doesn't make him less real."

"I think…it may just be a side-effect," he says, troubled. "Perhaps of your medication. Or…just stress. People see things when they're stressed."

"I'm dying, in the long term, I'm always stressed," I point out and he winces. He doesn't like me talking of death, or dying, even though he's a doctor. I tell him I'm sorry and he starts stroking my hair, which is a bit matted from my sweat; I haven't taken a bath yet. He fingers it like some precious jewellery, and his face is soft and yielding, totally open. Hatori takes my head in both his hands and runs his thumbs over my cheeks.

"Don't look at me like that," I tell him. "I don't deserve that look right now. I'm sick, I'm a terrible person, I'm all sweaty and clammy, I'm pale and my hair is –"

"I don't care. I've never cared about that." He nuzzles me. "I've seen the god in you."

"So you're saying you only like my godlike form?" I pull back.

"I think you're lovely just as you are right now."

I start to weep. I don't deserve him, I don't, I know I don't, I don't deserve this kind, gentle, quiet man, I've hurt him in more ways then one and still he tells me he loves me.

"Don't cry, Akito."

But I can't stop. Little sobs shake out, rattling my teeth and my ribs, hurting me but I can't stop. Because I have this feeling. Because one day, he will leave me.

Hatori holds me, waits until my sobs quiet into sniffles and little jerks. His shirt is wet from my tears.

"You're so fragile," he chuckles, his voice not quite steady.

"S-shut up." I wipe my nose on my sleeve.

"Like a boy of clouded glass." He traces a tear track with one finger. "Broken with one swift motion…"

"I am not _broken_. No one will _break _me." I smack his chest weakly with one fist, knowing it doesn't hurt him.

"Sleep," he tells me, and I do, I lay my head on his chest and let myself be rocked away by the booms of his heart.

---

"_Why is it so dark in here, Akito?"_

_Because my whole world is black._

"_I don't like it. It makes me scared."_

_Because black is the colour of my soul. You can see it shining out from my eyes and hair. Black._

"_Scared…"_

_So the whole world must be painted black too. _

_I started painting his room black…_

I open my eyes. I haven't had that dream for a long time.

I've fallen to Hatori's side, one of his arms is still around me. He's fallen asleep. I watch his face for a while before sitting up slowly. My bruise complains but I ignore it.

"Akitu?" I say slowly.

Silence. Good, maybe he isn't here.

It's late afternoon. Golden bars of sun slice in from around the closed curtains, already darkening as evening slowly settles in.

I hear a little sob from the corner.

I turn, dry-mouthed, and see a child.

He's sitting in the corner, slowly running one of his sandals across the floor. He's clothed in a little robe of pearl grey, the same colour of his hair. I recognise that hair, that sheen, the way it curves in to cup the child's cheeks…

"Yuki?"

He looks up, cheeks gleaming in the twilight.

It _is_ him. I close my eyes and count to ten, then open them again. He's still sitting there, with those wide grey eyes, looking at me.

"Akito?" he says uncertainly.

This can't be. Not only would Yuki ever come to the Main House voluntarily, but he's about fifteen years old now. What I see is the six-year-old version of him, fingering one small sandal.

No. No, no. Not _another_ one…

"I'm scared," he says plaintively, tentatively. "Akito…it's getting dark, I'm scared."

"Go away," I tell him. That little voice makes me cringe for some reason and I put my hands over my ears. "You're not real. You're a figment of my imagination."

Now he looks like he's going to cry. Oh Kami.

"B-but I'm supposed to be w-with you…Mama said…she l-left me…" He sniffles.

"Where did you come from?" My eyes are drawn toward the mirror, its calm surface.

"M-mama left me."

I climb out of bed, staggering woozily as bloodrush hits me, and settle on my knees a few feet from him. He looks so real, just like Akitu. I stretch out my hand and he flinches. I rest my hand on his cheek, cold and smooth as ivory. The soft skin dimples.

"So real," I breathe.

Now he just looks perplexed. "I _am_ real."

My eyes trail down to the sandal in his hand. "What are you doing?"

"Playing," he explains. He runs it across the floor again. "This is my boat. I'm sailing it across the ocean."

"I see."

"It's so dark in here," he repeats.

"I like the dark."

"Why?"

I shrug. "It's –"

_the colour of my soul_

"- comforting."

Little Yuki watches me for a while, and it pains me, seeing those velvety grey eyes so large and childish. I played with him, when I was younger, long ago. Well, I used to. Then I started abusing him, because it made me feel powerful…

"What are we going to play now?" he asks, as if reading my thoughts. "I'm your playmate, mama says. Your special friend. Because I'm the Rat. And –" he runs his sandal across the floor again, "- the Rat is closest to God, everyone says."

"You are. You're very special."

I put my face in my hands. It's got to be a bad sign if I start accepting these illusions. I know this is not the real Yuki. It's not. It's not.

From out of nowhere, I start shivering. It feels so cold. I touch my face. Cold, sweaty.

"I'm sorry," I whisper.

"What?"

Now the shakes are starting again. To my surprise, I feel remorse. I do love Yuki, truly, and now that I look back on it, his life is just going to get worse from now on…

"I'm sorry…"

Little Yuki stops his play and crouches beside me, reaching out with one starfish-splayed hand to touch my face. "Akito…"

"I love you," I tell him. I have to say it, now, or he'll hate me forever. "I don't mean…I didn't mean to…I just…love you. I know you'll hurt…because of me…"

Yuki nods, and raises his robe so I can see the lash-marks on his legs.

"It'll get worse," I say, "but I was so wrapped up in despair…you were the only one there…I'm sorry…" I stop talking because I'm not making sense, I'm talking to a shadow that's not even here.

"You can see that?" he asks. "How?"

"I'm God." I smile. "I'm prophetic."

Little Yuki accepts this. He'll accept anything you tell him, he's so sweet and naïve. And yet he looks me so deeply, like he can see through my clothes and into my bare bones, it's such a naked look.

"You're sick," he says quietly, wonderingly. "There's a darkness, a rottenness in you…I can see that. Wrapped around and around. Your sickness. Your curse. I didn't know you were cursed too, Akito."

I giggle quietly. "It's a special curse." What a cute little Rat he is.

"I'm cold. Are you cold?"

"Yes."

His eyes stray to the bed. I tug my yukata back onto my shoulders, and reach for him. He comes to me like a puppy, reassured by my passivity. I feel his small arms encircle my neck, his warm, live weight in my arms.

He's bony, under his robe. No wonder he barely weighs anything at all.

I carry him to the bed and let him clamber on it, kicking his other sandal off and wrapping himself in the sheets. He peers over at Hari's sleeping form. "Who's that?"

"Hatori."

"No it isn't. Hatori's not a man. You have a man in your bed."

"Live with it," I say grumpily. "And make room."

Cowed, he obliges. I slip back into covers and lay back down. Strange days. Strange nights.

Little Yuki is sitting up, looking at me with those twilit grey eyes. Giving me that naked look again. I blink.

"What?"

"I can see something else."

"Oh, can you."

"Yes. It's a secret something."

"So tell me."

His bangs brush my face as he leans forward to whisper in my ear. I can't make out anything from his loud, hot childish whispers.

"What?"

"I see a part of you…really, really deep inside…that's completely free of sickness."

Then he flops beside me like some baby seal and wriggles until he's comfortable. Pretty soon he's asleep.

I'm glad. I don't want him to see my tears.

---

A/N: Ok, so that was…odd. If any of it didn't make sense, I don't really care. Oh, but about Hari's comment about seeing 'the god in you' is from my Drifting Away fic, where I made Akito capable of transforming into his god-self. Meaning, 'God' is not just his title, he actually IS...well, can become…the Zodiac God. It's inherited power. I'm sorry if it doesn't make sense – go read Drifting Away then, and review please because I love that fic so much! XD

Thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far!


	4. All In The Mind

A/N: To reassure you, and to some reviewers who were confused, Little Yuki is not actually the real Yuki Sohma in this fic. Little Yuki is just a hallucination, as is Akitu. Little Yuki is a memory of the younger Yuki that Akito conjures up and so has the mentality and memories of a young Yuki. Which is why he comments in the last chapter that 'Hatori's not a man,' as in he only knows Hatori as an older boy. Little Yuki belongs in the separate time period of Akito's past and only has past memories. Anyone still confused?

If not, then _read on…_

* * *

"Don't do it," Little Yuki whispered, "you'll get in trouble." 

"Ha. I'm God, I can do what I please. They daren't try and question me."

"I still think this is a bad idea, Akito-san," Little Yuki said plaintively. "It's not very nice."

We two are crouched behind a rice-paper wall, straining our ears to hear the conversation going on behind it. Well, I'm crouching; Little Yuki is leaning over my shoulder, his silver-grey hair tickling my ears. His eyes are wide and alive in this dark cool hallway.

Something interesting has happened. Shigure has come to the Main House, not to see me but to hold some kind of secret talk with Hari. None of them told me this and I wouldn't have noticed had not my little spy Little Yuki mentioned it in passing. I made him take me to them, and now I'm going to eavesdrop. There are no secrets kept from _me._

Little Yuki keeps tugging at me. I ignore him, and peer through a tear in the wall.

"…oddly lately," comes Hari's serene tone. I can see him, long lanky legs folded under him as he and my Dog converse. "It's like…he's steadily becoming more distant."

"How do you mean?" Shigure plucks a teacup from the small table in front and drinks. He's in a suit. Possibly later he was planning on surprising me.

"Sometimes I come in and…he seems to be watching or listening to something. Something that I can't see." Hatori's teacup rattles slightly as he puts it down.

"Sometimes I can hear him talking. I thought he was speaking to himself, but it's not that at all. It's as if…there's another person in the room he's talking to." Hatori waves a hand around. "This has all happened suddenly, Shigure, and I'm not sure what to do."

"Hmm." Shigure frowns, but I can see something working behind his eyes. "You think this is some kind of reaction to his medication?"

"It could be. I hope it is. If it is then I can handle it. I'm his doctor, I can minimise or cease his medication altogether. And it would stop. If it isn't his medication then there is one other… _tentative _diagnosis I have…"

Hatori swallows hard. I can see the emotions seething inside him; I can see the little tic in his cheek and the tightness around his mouth, his white knuckles.

"The diagnosis…I don't even want to consider it. I don't want to say it. Right now I think it would be too early for that kind of thing, as he's not showing any other…symptoms."

The doctor drains his tea violently and clasps the cup.

"Besides, psychology isn't my area of expertise. It would be wrong of me to - to presume."

Shigure studies Hari's face for a long moment. He looks away for a moment at the opposite wall as if it will provide him with answers, speak to him. Then he coughs gently.

"But Ha-san…you know, don't you, that Akito is a little bit…you know…"

Hatori slowly lifts his head up, distant thunder in his eyes. I clutch the floor. Shigure doesn't notice the change in my Dragon; he's now looking at the ground.

"A little…you know, Ha-san, he's not quite _all there."_

"I…am aware," Hatori says emotionlessly, haltingly, and as I watch, heart in my mouth, he raises a hand to his damaged eye. For a moment there's this _look – _and then it's gone, and Hatori is like ice again, giving Shigure a deadly glacial stare.

"Are you suggesting…Akito is doing this to _spite _me?"

Shigure's mouth drops. He raises his hands. "Of course not. I'm saying…well," he laughs, "I don't know what I'm saying."

"I think you do."

Shigure sees he's on dangerous ground now. He's used to my explosive temper, my outpouring of ferocity and scorn. He's not afraid. What's more frightening is Hatori's anger, his sudden stillness, his frozen white rage.

"I'm just saying, Ha-san…Akito's a bit unstable. Don't you think by this time in his life…his mental state might be beginning to…deteriorate?"

_What?_

Something trickles down my lip, warm and coppery. My vision has doubled, my face feels blood-hot as these roaring waves crash against my skull. _How dare you, Shigure…_

Hatori looks angry too and I'm glad, he agrees with me, he hates Shigure for even suggesting such a _thing _like that. The nerve of that mutt. Yes, Hatori is angry, yes I can see him start to open his mouth to pour stinging bitter words on his head-

And then he stops.

Looks away.

Shakes his head.

Whispers, "I don't know."

I teeter on the brink.

Little Yuki is clutching my shaking shoulder, whispering loud hot booms in my ear but I barely hear him

_come away akito please let's not listen anymore come away akito your nose_

Shigure nods sympathetically. "It can't be easy, knowing that he's –"

"That he's _what_, Shigure?" I say icily.

The two men swivel their heads toward me and gape like fish. I've wrenched the rice-paper door aside, torn it aside.

Hatori comes to me with soothing words ready and comforting touches but I push him aside, looking only at my Dog. "No, Shigure, finish what you were saying. It can't be easy knowing that I'm WHAT?"

Shigure looks down at my hand clutching a fistful of jacket. "…You're dripping blood on my jacket, Akito-san. Let Hatori see to your nose."

Impudent shit. I let go of his jacket and grip his chin instead. He winces. "Never mind Shigure. I'll say it for you, I can see the words hanging on your lips. You were going to say _It can't be easy, knowing that he's **going crazy**, _right?

"_Right?"_

Shigure doesn't speak, he just smiles.

I bring his head forward, cradle it in both my hands. _"Bad dog,"_ I whisper against his warm temple, _"Bad dog. Very bad dog."_

That's done it. I watch his face whiten, knowing my words have struck the dead centre of his canine core. He'll mope about this for days, he'll fret. He won't feel happy again until I've forgiven him, and that won't be any time soon. In the next few days he'll whine and beg, and flatter me, and try and prove his usefulness. What a mutt.

I turn away from him and start to walk out, without looking at either of them. Little Yuki comes to my side. I pause for a moment in the doorway, staring straight ahead.

"I'm going outside into the gardens. I don't want either of you to follow me. I don't want either of you to bother me for the rest of the day. No checkups. No medicine. I want to be alone.

"Don't bother coming into my room tonight, Hatori."

I hear him intake sharply behind me as I walk out, knowing that they've been suitably punished.

Outside it is mild and calm; totally inappropriate for the rage I'm feeling right now. My nosebleed has stopped. I breathe through open mouth because of the blood clots in both nostrils. I smell my blood, taste it coating the back of my throat.

I find a warm patch of grass under a tree and sit. Some birds fly down and come near, as always. Little Yuki settles near me, watches me put my face in my hands.

I feel so incredibly old.

"What did they mean?" Little Yuki's voice pipes up, "What did they mean, Akito? By you being at that time in your life? What does dee-tee-yor-ate mean?"

I don't answer. Some things I just can't speak out loud.

"Is it about your curse?"

"I'm afraid," I say.

He scooches closer. "Why?"

"Because I think they're right."

"I don't understand."

I drop my hands and look at him. "I think…I think I _am_ going crazy. I mean…" Laughter bubbles up my throat, "…look at me. I'm sitting here talking to you, and you're not even there."

"Akito?"

I reach out and grab his arm lightly, feeling it. "Yet you're so real. You're warm, you're breathing…you're so…alive.

_And I'm not._

"How could you possibly be fake?"

Little Yuki's not understanding any of this – he's too young, too sweet, too pure to understand about diseases of the mind and rotting of the body. He doesn't know deception. He does know pain, because when he looks at me I see deep empathy, something I don't even see in Hatori's eyes. Is _that_ a hallucination as well?

"Tell me," he whispers softly. He takes my hand in his small ones. "Tell me about your curse. Tell me why you're so sad. Because –" he swallows, "- I can feel this pain in my heart, and I think it's your pain, because we're connected in some way, and it's hurting me, Akito."

"All right," I agree. I lie back on the grass and let leaf shadows crawl over me, sunlight dripping down through the leaves to speckle me in gold. My Rat lies back too with his head on my frail chest. I pause, wondering how to begin.

"I am the God of the Zodiac, Yuki. I am the leader of all the Zodiac animals. I have duties – to protect and guide my Juunishi, to keep them close, away from harm. Understand?"

He nods.

"But I live for a purpose, Yuki. To die for you. You see, burdened as you are by a vengeful spirit, the act of transformation – the rearranging of bone and muscle – requires a large amount of energy. Some might call it magic. You can't supply that energy on your own. Such a full-body scale act would kill you. That's why I'm here.

"I give you energy…life. My life-force. So when you do transform, it won't be slow and painful. It's instantaneous, isn't it? Poof, and you're a rat. You draw your own life from mine, all the time, every second of the day, every second you're alive."

"Wow," Little Yuki whispers. "Is that why my heart hurts now? Because of…of…this connection?"

"The Zodiac bond. Yes, that's part of it. But the bond is more then just life-force flowing from me to you. There is a bond that links you to all the other Juunishi, as well as to me. The blood bond. That's another story to tell."

"Tell me?"

"Maybe later." I have to catch my breath.

He turns his head toward me. "And your sickness?"

I sigh. I don't like talking about this. "That's my curse, Yuki. I have thirteen people living off my life energy. They plunder it from me, it weakens me greatly. My immune system is weak. That's why I'm ill – I will _always_ be ill, always be dying, as long as there are living Juunishi, or until I die. That is my burden. My curse."

"And if you died?"

"Then you too would begin to die, until another God is born."

We lie in silence for a while.

"Akito?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you." Little Yuki smiles, a sad little curving of the mouth. "Thank you, Akito."

"You're welcome," I mutter. Not one of my Juunishi had ever acknowledged the debt they owe me. Possibly because they're ashamed to say it. Little Yuki's words make me feel odd – or maybe it's this headache, for now only a little dull throb in the back of my skull, but threatening to swell and engulf me later. I itch for Hari's healing touch but hold myself back.

"He wants you," Little Yuki speaks again. I swear that boy can hear my thoughts. "He wants to make sure you're ok. Why don't you just go to him, Akito?"

I roll onto one side, away from his face. "You heard them in there. They think I'm losing it."

"Hatori's just concerned. So is Shigure."

"How would you know that?"

"I don't know. I can just feel it. Like I can feel your emotions, right now."

I roll back and glare at him, but it doesn't work. His grey eyes are clear. "What are you? How can you know all of this? Know things about me? How?"

The little boy simply stares at me. "What are you?" I press.

"Your Rat. That's all."

"Really," I murmur. And it's funny; because at the exact moment I'm staring at him, a strange feeling occurs to me; I feel like I'm just talking to empty space and there's actually nothing there; nothing at all.

---

I must've dropped off, because when I wake I'm lying in someone's lap. I don't even need to guess who because I recognise Hator's respiration and heartbeat, feel the Dragon spirit kindling in his veins. Hari puts down the medical journal he's reading when I stir, and tilts my head up to examine my pupils.

"Don't be angry," he says in a low voice. "Don't be angry, Akito…"

"Why not?" My face and hair feel damp. Light terrycloth brushes my skin. "And why am I wet?"

"I gave you a bath. You slept right through it, I was worried for a while. I had to get that blood off you somehow."

I ignore his quiet desperate tone and crawl off him onto the couch. We're in the TV room, so I grab the remote and turn it on, flicking through the channels to hide my irritation. My skin feels prickly every time I think of him and Shigure talking in that room.

_Flick._ News. _Flick_. Soccer game. _Flick._ Yoghurt commercial.

Hatori flings himself out in desperate appeal. "Shigure wants to apologise. He didn't mean what he said."

"Like fuck he didn't, Hatori." I listen to a perky announcer tell me how eating pro-biotic yoghurt will boost my immune system and live a happy life and I seethe. "Is he still here?"

"No."

"You are," I point out.

"Please, let's not do this, Akito."

"You agreed with him. You think I'm _going crazy_. You think I'm _going bananas." _I spit out these phrases with relish. Who says crappy American sitcoms don't teach you anything?

"You think I'm _crackers_, don't you Hari?"

"No, Akito. I just–"

"Stop talking. I don't want to hear it." I'm mashing the channel-up button so hard it's an audible _clickety-click-click-click. _Talkshows, cereal brands and sport shoes whirl past my eyes.

"There are things we have to consider-"

"No there aren't. Call it stress. That's what it is. Stress. You said to me yourself stress can make people see things."

"Then tell me what's wrong," the doctor counters. As if he didn't know, oh God.

"You know," I murmur quietly. "You already know, but you don't like saying it, admitting it to yourself. Do you even think about it, as I do, lying awake in the small dead hours of morning, looking above me and seeing that inescapable great weight hanging over my head…"

"What?"

"I'm _dying,"_ I hiss, "I'm dying, you coward, you _leech,_ I'm dying, that weight above me is my death, always hanging over, ready to drop at any moment, that's what my _stress_ is, Hatori!"

There are dry hitches in my throat. But I know it's useless; I can't escape my own destiny.

I drop the remote. It clatters to the floor.

"It w-wasn't…supposed to _be_ like this, Hari…it's not ruh-right…I'm n-nineteen and I'm supposed to be happy and healthy and muh-meeting people and going to the movies and seeing pl-places, but just look at me, it's worse then cancer, I probably won't even reach age thirty, I'm not even twenty but G-God I feel so _old…"_

I lean back when he tries to touch me. "Don't. Leave. I can't stand to be around you right now."

_Every breath you breathe should be mine._

As soon as he's gone, I flop back full-length onto the couch and stare at the ceiling. There are cracks in it, just like the dark fault lines splitting my life apart. I have no tears. They're just wasted.

"Yuki?" I whisper helplessly. I itch for his angel face and warm white hands. I reach out for them. "Yuki?"

My voice echoes and flutters around the room. _Yuki? Yuki?_

(And behind, a faint shifting in the air…)

"Yuki?" I mutter through a suddenly dry and cottony mouth. _Yuki? _the room whispers back.

The cracks in the ceiling no longer seem like cracks. Now they look like…mouths.

So many mouths.

"Yuki?" I whimper.

_Not here, _the ceiling speaks in so many breathless whispers, _Not here…_

What is this? What is it? I clamp my head between both heads.

"_Not here,"_ comes Akitu's voice, sweet and cold as the morning, _"He's not here, Akito. But I am._

"_Aren't you glad?"_

As I gape wordlessly, the mouths above gain features, Akitu's face replicated mercilessly across the ceiling etched in plaster and paint.

"_Aren't you glad, sick little monster?"_

I scream.

---

i don't want to i cant speak of it i i i

---

I can't go in my room now. I know **he's** in there. Even if he's not, _that mirror_ is in there. I can't make it go away.

There is a smell I smell now. Sometimes of gasoline. Other times, of oranges.

Hatori told me once that smelling strange odors that no one else smells is a symptom of certain brain tumours.

Maybe I'm imagining that too.

Little Yuki still isn't here. I think of him and he won't come.

_I feel like I'm just talking to empty space and there's actually nothing there; nothing at all _

I'm adamant to sleep in Hatori's room instead of my own. I'm not going into the TV room, ever. Hatori is getting worried, I think. I overhear him consulting some doctor on the phone. The words 'paranoid', 'voices', 'hallucinations' came up more then once.

I see.

Hatori thinks I'm going crazy. For the rest of the day, he seems intent on avoiding me. I can see guilt written all over his face. My Dragon has done something he shouldn't have.

Finally, he confronts me.

"Akito. Tomorrow, a specialist is coming to talk to you. I told him what's been happening. I think it's the only way to help you, I can't do anymore." There are tears in his eyes.

"I'm sorry it had to come to this."

"I'm sorry too," I reply calmly, quelling the urge to launch something at his face.

It shouldn't have come to this. This is all **his** fault. If Akitu hadn't appeared, none of this would've happened.

I wish Little Yuki was here. I really, really do.

* * *

A/N: Uh oh. Bad things happenin' now. Even worse to come. Eek! Reviews, please! 


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